Dancing with the Suit (6)
March first week, Saturday. Around 5 p.m. After negotiating with Rydmila over the supplies needed for her mana massage through casual chit-chat, I slipped out of her room right away and took a stroll around the old school building.
And without even a moment to sort through my thoughts during the walk—
"Uwack!"
"Wh-what?!"
I spotted a female student in a gothic lolita dress wandering the garden.
"E-van-ge-lineee—!!"
The second I saw her, I charged right in.
"Kyaaah! What are you doing?!"
In one swift motion, I hoisted Evangeline up by her armpits. She clenched her fists and pounded on my head. But those punches were literally like cotton swabs—nothing painful about them.
"Gratitude airplane!"
"If you're grateful, show it with money!"
Honestly, even if they did hurt, I'd gladly endure it. Thanks to Evangeline's words, I'd gotten the perfect pitch from Rydmila: Why not slap on a bandage and go through with the mana massage? Of course, it was all about that wounded spot.
During a mana massage, my hands might brush the injury, and if it got infected, it'd hurt like hell. In that sense, Evangeline's "advice" (not really advice) handed me the golden opportunity to conquer Rydmila.
"How about it? Wanna go airplane again? Or princess carry? What do you want?"
"I'm a princess to begin with. Why do I have to go along with whatever you decide—airplane or carry?"
"Fine, then what? Name it. I'll grant anything you wish."
"Put me down first, then we talk?"
Evangeline grabbed my head and yanked it wildly.
"Ow, ow. You wanna hit up Ratatouille, right? Got it."
"What the hell are you—kyaa?!"
I tossed Evangeline up high. More precisely, I lifted her, then bent forward at lightspeed and spun her around the other way.
"Ta-da."
"You maniac!"
In an instant, I'd given her a piggyback ride like she was riding a horse. Suddenly, her gothic lolita dress draped over my head like a veil, the hem covering my forehead. But I gripped her ankles tight, holding steady so she wouldn't fall.
"What the... uh, huh?"
Evangeline, who first panicked and tried to fix her dress, froze for a whole different reason.
"How'd you move so fast...?"
About my speed.
"Didn't you know? When playing with kids, your speed triples by default."
"What the heck does that mean?"
"To get Miss Evangeline up on my shoulders like this, don't I need to move faster than usual?"
"Hah, seriously...! What kind of nonsense...!"
Evangeline let out a deep sigh and tugged at her dress. It was the same one she'd worn when she first arrived at the southern terminal—not her academy uniform—and she wasn't thrashing around too wildly.
"If you rip the dress, you're dead."
She seemed pretty cautious about damaging her dress, or her clothes in general.
"Hmm."
I focused on the sensation of the dress fabric brushing over my hair. Mana should react before any direct touch, but surprisingly, the dress showed zero mana response.
"Evangeline."
I tilted my head back—
"You're insane?!"
—only for it to get pinned right against her thigh.
"Wh-where do you think you're looking?!"
"Ah, this is nice too, but your thighs are thicker than I thought—"
"Die!"
Evangeline grabbed my temple and shook my head back and forth. My occiput didn't quite hit, but my head rubbed between her thighs.
"Ahaha. Evangeline. You know..."
"Know what?! You pervert shaking me around like this—"
"Your finances aren't doing so hot, are they?"
"......!"
Evangeline's movements stopped dead.
"Something like that?"
"Wh-what are you talking about? I'm the princess of the di Ershi Empire. As if I'd have money troubles."
"I didn't say 'strapped for cash,' just asked if it's tough. Seems like it is?"
"D-don't spout nonsense. Why would an imperial princess worry about money at the academy?"
She didn't seem the type with deep schemes.
That probably just emphasizes her traits even more.
Financial hardship. Or poverty. But as an imperial princess, let's reframe it: limited budget.
"Really? His Majesty the Emperor of di Ershi must be strict with your education. 'Earn your own tuition and live off it.' Something like that?"
"Hmph! You get it. You know a bit about our empire's educational philosophy?"
Bluffing. Words carry nuance, but the emotion in her voice wasn't pride in her lion-like father's philosophy. Earn your tuition. No support. Sorry, daughter—earn it yourself. The difference between the two is clear. And analyzing the di Ershi Empire's situation from what I've heard, plus hers—
"Ah, your stocking laddered."
"What?!"
She reacted sensitively the second I tossed out the bait.
"Where?! No way!"
"Kidding."
"Hey!"
Evangeline overreacted big time. Just a comment about a stocking run, but she lost it.
Can't touch that carelessly.
Airplane lifts, piggybacks, horse rides? Fine. But bruise her pride? No go.
Do the creators have some Cinderella fetish?
Even in a bread academy where rich young ladies don't sweat finances, they shoehorn in a heroine bluffing through a tight budget.
"Hmm."
Perfect timing. Wasn't something I planned urgently, but it fit Evangeline's situation nicely.
"Evangeline. Wanna make some cash?"
"...What?"
"You know—"
"You're not about to offer to buy the stockings off my feet, are you?"
"Demand exists, sure, but that's not the business I'm talking about."
I approached the garden fountain, leaned forward to set Evangeline down on the railing, and stepped back.
"I need a mascot."
"Masc...what?"
"I'm turning one of the old school building's training rooms into a bakery."
"...Bakery?"
Evangeline's ears perked up.
"You really good at making bread?"
"Obviously. Doubting me?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"Figured you just meant you're good at kneading and groping girls' dough."
"I'm good at that too, but bread's the real deal."
Evangeline narrowed her eyes, hopped off the fountain, and sat on the bench.
"What's the plan? Make bread and sell it?"
"Yeah."
"......."
"Don't give me that 'a student doing that?' look. My bread isn't ordinary."
I sat beside her, slung an arm around her shoulders, and whispered in her ear.
"Mana bread."
"......?"
"It's bread, but eating it restores mana."
"...What, like pouring mana instead of syrup?"
"Kinda different. Think of it as an edible mana potion. Sound good?"
Evangeline perked her ears again, leaning into my voice.
"That's why it's mana bread?"
"Yep. No rule saying you gotta chug mana potions like liquid. And you've tried them—you know the taste is... pretty rough."
"W-well, yeah."
Evangeline nodded, chin up. I could guess where her bluff kicked in.
"No matter how refined, mana potions basically taste like crap. It's 'cause absorbing mana as liquid feels like medicine. But mana bread? Different story."
I pointed at her abdomen.
"It's 'eating,' not 'drinking,' so it'll even help with dieting a bit."
"...What?"
"Fool the stomach. You're ingesting mana, but your body thinks it's had a full meal with nothing extra. Of course, for health, pair it with minimal solids."
"......Hmm."
Evangeline scratched her cheek, deep in thought.
"Think it'll make money?"
"Try it and see. Check if it's got business potential."
"Business potential..."
Evangeline nibbled her finger, looking worried.
"Why?"
"...If it's profitable, wouldn't asking her be better?"
She drew a circle in the air with her fidgeting finger.
"Silverstar."
"......."
"Pitch it there, you'd get way more funding... Ah, n-no, the empire's not broke! If the business makes sense, the empire would invest too! Over classmates like special class—"
"I don't like Silverstar much."
"...Huh?"
"More precisely, as a 'hunter,' I really don't like Silverstar."
I tossed out some bait.
"They slyly rig contracts in their favor, then squeeze massive funds from the signees. That's how they've survived."
"......."
"They call it a merchant group, but it's basically a nation. With enough will, they could claim kingdom... or empire status with their capital. Even the golden carriage bringing our list tomorrow is Silverstar's."
"Well, yeah. No one delivers in bulk like Silverstar."
"But no mana bread. Or at least, not my kind."
Because those are real-world breads.
"So, Evangeline? Contract with me. Be the mascot for my bakery."
"......."
"What? Wanna hear terms first?"
"Sorta, but why pitch this to me over Unia or Rydmila?"
A sharp edge crept into Evangeline's voice.
"You don't—"
Know I'm broke and targeting you? She didn't say it outright. Some heroines fall for that approach, but not Evangeline.
"What're you thinking?"
Smack.
"Ow! That hurts!"
"I said mascot. I'll pitch to them too, but they're apron-wearing staff."
"...Huh?"
Evangeline rubbed her forehead and tilted her head.
"They're staff. Why am I mascot?"
"'Cause."
Obvious.
"You're Malang Ping."
Mascot is mascot.
"The pink flower pig costume—"
Thwack.
Straight to the solar plexus. Hard as hell. My Golden Sun transformation nearly broke on impact.